


Anise

by titania522



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Day of the Dead, Fluff, Fluffy, Romance, dia de los muertos, everlark, everlark fanfiction, mexican katniss, mexican!katniss, multcultural fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-02
Updated: 2014-11-02
Packaged: 2018-02-23 20:49:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2555153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/titania522/pseuds/titania522
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A one shot inspired by the celebration of the Day of the Dead, November 2nd.  Peeta offers to help Katniss make the typical bread for the Day of the Dead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anise

**Author's Note:**

> Today is November 2nd and while I am not Mexican, I grew up with Mexican families. My grandfather was a fruit picker and traveled the US, following the crops while my grandmother and I stayed in their home in Florida. I remember the many festivities that took place around the **Day of the Dead (or Days of the Dead, when you consider there are three of them and the festivities can last up to a week). I just couldn’t get this plot bunny out of my head. Despite the title, is a humorous and happy story. I promise you, it is not disrespectful in the least.
> 
> Enjoy!

**_Anise_ **

**_(A spice found in Pan de los Muertos*)_ **

 

**XXXXX**

Peeta stood outside the kitchen door of Katniss’ house early Sunday morning. The deafening silence that reigned throughout the building made him nervous.  Katniss’ house was always full of people - a condition he had had to get used to ever since he first started dating Katniss a few months ago. When her mother and sister moved to Panem one year ago from her small town of Merida near Cancún, they’d taken up residence with her aunts, Hazel and Sae and a house full of cousins that, even today, Peeta still couldn’t keep track of. He knew her sister Primrose, of course, and Gale, Rory and Posy, her first cousins but there were at least 20 people who came and went with regularity that he could not, for the life of him, identify.  It was so different from his own upbringing.  He lived with his mother and father and two brothers.  Relatives called in advance to visit and never just dropped by - they would come to the bakery to see them if they needed to. But his mother was not too keen on people just showing up at the house and everyone knew that so life at his home had been, for the most part, blandly quiet.

Not Katniss’ house.  He often came to her house to do homework - there was no way that a good 16 year old Mexican girl was going to go to a good 16 year old American boy’s house under any pretext under the sun. Finding a quiet spot in her house was like trying to find silence in the middle of a storm. Katniss was good at tuning out the racket - the kids scampering underfoot as the men, freshly washed from a grueling day of picking fruit in the fields, watched soccer and drank beer.  Katniss and Peeta were relegated to the dining room near the kitchen where the women chatted as they made fresh tortillas, tamales or seafood soup that everyone, including Peeta, was expected to eat.  It was also where Katniss’ mother and aunts could keep an eye on them, to make sure they didn’t do anything that would injure their “virtues,” as Katniss’ mother had patiently explained.  Katniss and Peeta were reduced to stealing touches beneath the table or, when they were perfectly desperate, a quick kiss under the shower of her pitch-black hair.

But it was the long walks after dinner that Peeta most looked forward to. Katniss was allowed to take her strolls alone with him.  These were the highlights of his nights with her because that was when he truly came to know Katniss, inextricably binding his heart to hers. They exchanged stories with one another (Katniss had many, given the enormity of her family).  Sometimes, they would sneak behind a large tree or awning to exchange furtive kisses and caresses. It was on one night that she told him about the _Pan de los Muertos_.

“My mother and aunts always make it. But I have to make it this year,” she explained to him.

“Why is it so important?” he asked.

Katniss sighed, her words carried on the lilt of her accent, so that she sounded like a singing bird even when she was speaking of the most banal things.  “When I turned 15, I officially became a woman. I must do the things that women traditionally do - cook, tend to the home, even get married, if my family wants.” Katniss wrinkled her nose. The look of panic on Peeta’s face made her laugh and she took both of his cheeks in her hands. “No, mi _gringito <white boy/American boy>_!  My mother, she is a smart woman.  Sad, maybe, since _Papa’ <Father> _died, but she does not want that for me or my sister.  She make us learn english and study in the American high school so we do not end in the _fincas <fields>_, sweating our life away for a few pennies each day.”  She dropped her hands and took his large one in one of hers, squeezing tightly. “ _Mama’ <Mother>_ and my _tías <aunts>_, they want all the children to study and go to college and have a good life.  Don’t worry for me!”

Peeta shivered with one last pang of terror.  His heart whispered treacherously to him, that there was only one boy who would marry Katniss...but he pushed that thought down, because it was too soon for all of that and he did not want to scare her.

“I must make the bread this year, for my father. It is _El Dia de los Muertos <The Day of the Dead>_ and we honor _Papa’_ with a special bread called _Pan de los Muertos_ _< bread of the dead>_ which we put on his altar.  We also clean his grave and spend the day honoring his life and those of other dead relatives.  It is on Sunday. I will make his altar but I must have bread for him ready when the sun rises. I am...afraid to make it and I don’t want to ask Sae or Hazel for help - I want to surprise them.”  She stepped into his arms, which he had opened as an invitation to her.

Peeta squeezed her to him, the cool air of the evening enveloping them with the smell of late autumn - fallen orange and brown leaves sprinkled over the ground and the black, moist earth readying itself for the onslaught of winter.  “You realize, I happen to be a kind of expert with bread.  And I’ve never heard of this bread before so I’d love to learn to make it.”

Katniss looked up at him, her eyes twinkling with excitement. “You will help me?”

“I’ll do whatever you ask me to do.” he said, his eyes giving more meaning to the words than perhaps he had intended.

Katniss practically jumped up and down. “Okay!  You come very early on Sunday, before the sunrise. Everyone will be sleeping because they will be up night on Saturday.” Peeta looked at her in puzzlement.  “The Day of the Dead really is many days and starts on your Halloween, October 31st.  November 1st is to celebrate the souls of babies and children and our family stays up all night, telling stories and playing games so that the spirits of the _niñitos <little children> _will go back happy to the afterlife.  The family will be asleep because they will be very tired.”  Peeta was captivated by Katniss’s grey eyes and her animated face as she spoke to him. He had to concentrate very hard to make sense of her words because he was suddenly overcome by a mindless heat.  “You can come very early and help me with the bread,” she said, startling him when she pulled him down for a kiss that would have convinced him to rob a bank if that’s what she’d wanted.

So here he was, sneaking into her house on Sunday morning to help her make bread. He realized he might not have thought through all the consequences of his decision when he’d agreed to come, imagining her towering older cousin, Gale, grey eyes gleaming in anger if Peeta was caught at five o’clock in the morning in their kitchen. Somehow the excuse that he was only there to bake bread with Katniss would not appear very convincing.

Shaking a bit from nerves and fear, he considered the option of running for dear life when Katniss opened the door.  She still had the soft warmth of sleep lingering around her eyes but she was perfect in her jeans and green sweater.  Her hair was braided and hanging down over her left shoulder.  Before he could say hello, she grabbed him and pulled him inside, thrusting a colorful plaid apron into his hand.  

“I have everything ready,” she said quietly as she pulled her own apron over her head and tied the sash behind her.

“My apron has lace, Katniss,” he said petulantly.  

“Aye, please, Peeta.  You are in the country of the women’s rights. Why does a little lace bother you?” she stood on her toes and kissed his cheek.  “Here,”  she handed him an index card. “I translate the recipe last night.”

Peeta looked down at the card, his face blanching a bit.  He understood why Katniss would not be a success in the kitchen - the concept of measurements and accuracy was lost on her.  Or maybe the recipe had been written by someone who found baking the bread so natural that measurements were unnecessary.  Where there should have been ounces or grams, there were phrases such as “a big spoon” or “a sprinkling” which did nothing to guide him in the amount of anything he would need.  He pulled out his smartphone and began typing away.

“What are you doing?” asked Katniss.

“Googling a recipe. This might as well be written in Spanish.”

Katniss huffed but said nothing.  Peeta made the corrections to the card and soon they were at work, putting the ingredients together in a bowl to create the dough.  As they waited for the dough to rise, Katniss melted bars of bitter chocolate in a pan and mixed it with sugar and cream.  She served it to Peeta with a fresh _concha***_ glazed with sugar. They ate, chatting as Peeta held her hand, waiting for the hour to pass.  The smell of chocolate, the sweetness of the pastry and the anise mingled with Katniss’ warmth to induce a sense of well-being that he did not often experience in his life.

He reached out with his finger to clean a smudge of chocolate from the corner of her mouth, at which she turned her head and captured his finger between the soft skin of her lips.  The move was so sudden, he almost snatched his hand back but for the warm, moist feeling of her delicate flesh enclosed around the tip. Her tongue massaged the pad of his finger the gentle sucking making his head swim with the intensity of the sensation.  When she released his finger, it was his mouth that took its place, the flavor of chocolate and the cream of the pastry flooding his mouth.  He had her pressed up against the counter, his hands gripping her waist, soft sounds of pleasure trapped in her throat.

He was so lost to the feeling of her body against his that he did not notice they were no longer alone until he heard someone clear her throat behind them.

“ _Que esta pasando aqui, mi niña_?” _< What is happening here, my little girl?>_ Sae asked with steel in her voice, though her dark eyes twinkled will ill-repressed mirth.

Katniss jumped away from Peeta, smoothing out her clothes and dropping her eyes to the floor, her cheeks aflame with embarrassment.

“ _Perdoname, tía_!   _Es que el me estaba ayudando con el pan y, pues bueno…_ ” _< Forgive me, aunt.  He was helping me with the bread and, well, you know…> _she stumbled over her words as they fell from her lips.  She shrugged.  “ _Ya sabes… <You know...>_” she said with a small shrug.

“ _Aye, si.  Ya sé muy bien_. Peeta?  < _Oh yes, I know very well_. >” she turned her inquiring eyes on him and he wanted nothing more than to crawl into the cabinet where the pots and pans were kept.

“Um, Mrs. Sae.  I...ah...well, we were waiting for the bread to rise...and Katniss made chocolate and…” Recovering himself, he straightened up and looked her straight in the eye.  “I’m sorry to disrespect your home or your niece. I only came to help her make the bread for her father.  I did not come with bad intentions.”

Sae laughed, her body shaking with her humor.  Peeta and Katniss looked at each other with curiosity, especially as she made her way to them and patted both of them on the cheek.

“The sun is not even up yet!” she exclaimed.  “Katniss, you had better marry this boy.  I don’t know too many who will wake up in the middle of the night to bake bread with their girlfriends!”  She laughed heartily at their embarrassment as she uncovered the dough for the bread.  “You can just tell he loves you.”

Katniss looked intensely at Peeta though she still spoke to her aunt.  “ _Si, tía_ , I know. I love him too.”

Peeta’s heart jumped in his chest, the happiness that burst from there spreading to his face,  lighting up his features.  Katniss eyes were soft, a small smile playing on her lips.  Sae, who had spread flour on the wooden counter and plopped the dough on top, stopped her kneading, looking at the young couple with infinite tenderness.  If a bomb had gone off at that moment, they would not have been aware of their surroundings.  After a few moments, Sae waved her hand at them. “Why don’t you both get out of here? I’ll finish this.”

As if waking from a trance, Katniss looked over at her aunt.  “Gracias, _tia_ ,” as she pulled Peeta towards the door. He was still floating somewhere in the clouds, Katniss’ words on automatic repeat in his head.

“Por nada < _For nothing_ >!  But don’t bring me any grandnieces or nephews, okay?  I’m not old enough for that yet!” she called out, chuckling at her two love birds as they raced out into the door.

Remembering something, Sae quickly walked to the window, opening it to let in the brisk air of dawn. “And Peeta!  Take that apron off!  What kind of man walks around wearing lace?”

**XXXXX**

***   Pan de los muertos** : A special bread made with anais, made often in special shapes that is eaten by families and placed on the graves and altars of the dead.

 ******   **Day of the Dead** : a[ Mexican](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mexican_people) holiday observed throughout Mexico and around the world in other cultures. The holiday focuses on gatherings of family and friends to pray for and remember friends and family members who have died.  They are actually three days which coincide with the Catholic liturgical holidays -   _All Hallows' Eve, Hallowmas_ , and _All Souls' Day_.  November 1st is _El Dia de los Innocentes_ which honors the souls of infants and children, while November 2nd honors the souls of deceased adults.  This is the day Katniss bakes the bread for.

 *****Concha** :  typical Mexican pastries shaped as seashells (hence the name) and glaces with a creamy sugar glaze.

 


End file.
